


Arrow in my Heart

by angelicsubtext



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aromantic, Aromantic Dean, Gay, Gay Castiel, Gay Smut, LGBT, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-10 18:06:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6968230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelicsubtext/pseuds/angelicsubtext
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean always thought he was broken, merely because he was incapable of love. Then his family disowns him. Just trying to make it through his last yea of college, he meets Castiel, who finally accepts him for what no one ever has. If only Dean was capable of loving him back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Something was wrong with him, and Dean never understood why he felt the way he did. The way his brother hugged him at night, and the way his boyfriend would kiss him on the cheek, reciprocating just felt stiff and awkward. He never knew what to do, it all just confused him. It was as if that part of him was just, broken. He’d still get turned on, hell if Carson knew that of all people. Damn that boy could do wonders with his mouth. But in the aftermath of a ravenous night, when Carson would press his lips against his own, it just felt flat and dull. The same spark just wasn’t there.  
And so that’s how Dean lived. Eventually he split things off with Carson in his best attempt to distance himself from anyone who gave a shit. He was with a different person every night, anything to ease that feeling in his stomach. Sure enough, his reputation grew and suddenly, he was seen as desirable. Not just for the amazing night you’d get with him, but to try and make the cold-hearted Dean Winchester fall in love.


	2. Chapter 2

It was like any other day, except that this was Dean’s last year in college and then he was a free bird. Majoring in psychological studies, he wanted to help people. So they didn’t feel abandoned like he did. Sam never did anything, but that was the issue. Sam never did anything to help his brother despite the blatantly obvious struggles he was going through every day. The two brothers grew distant and after a while, all conversation ceased when he left for college. That was the last he’d heard from his family. Dean wasn’t surprised though, it wasn’t like their dad to stick around in one place for too long. Regardless, it wouldn’t have killed his little brother to maybe pick up the damn phone for once. Dean had tried his hardest, calling and writing as often as he could, trying to balance that on top of his newly found social life and homework. But sure enough, the phone calls gradually became more brief and the amount of mail “getting lost in the postage process” was growing fairly suspicious. He knew how to take a hint. And thus any contact with his family was lost, and they were finally free of the son they considered to be only a burden.

Hoping to find a new family, Dean searched. Joining clubs and activities he truly did try, but nothing just ever clicked. That was the case up until he discovered fraternities. After going to an interest meeting he realized that it was the closest thing he’d get to a family here. And so he signed up. Of course with his strenuous list of academic achievements and his seemingly cheerful personality, all of them jumped at the opportunity for Dean Winchester to carry their title as member. He picked the choice that had seemed obvious at the time. Alpha Kappa Theta which was known for their parties, but after he realized that the little “get togethers” weren’t just held on the weekends, he began to regret his decision. Each night, he’d spend all afternoon locked away in his room, headphones in ear at full volume trying to blast out any music from the party or anyone who decided to occupy one of the rooms adjacent to his while hooking up with just another chick from the party. The smell of beer and vodka managed to imprint their scent on each and every one of his shirts despite his precautionary measures and thorough washing. 

All this alone time allowed for Dean to become very good friends with his own thoughts, not necessarily ones that nagged at him for school work, but rather the jaunting voices in his head screaming about how he is a freak and that he’ll never find anyone who will love someone who is incapable of loving them back. And ironically, the thought breaks his heart. 

Today was the first day of the new semester. Waking up to the smell of alcohol and sex he groans, attempting to drag himself out of the warm bed that's managed to defy physics and develop its own gravitational pull too strong to allow for Dean to stand. After his snooze alarm goes off for the third time, he manages to fall off the mattress, pull himself up, and shuffle to the closet so he can lay out his outfit before taking a brief shower. 

About an hour later, he pulls the grey t shirt over his head, leaving beads of moisture from where his hair and skin are still damp. After shoving everything he needs for class in his messenger bag, he heads out, but not before treating himself to a quick shot of morning vodka. Hey, it’s 6 o’clock somewhere. 

Shuffling down the hall, passed out party goes litter the floors and couches. Rolling his eyes, Dean leaves, grabbing the keys to his Suzuki motorbike. The engine purrs and he speeds off to his first class of the new semester.

Upon arrival, he can almost immediately see the newbies to the class. Typical. He thought to himself. He walked into the lecture hall, towering over the other students. Being 6’1 really had its perks. Taking the usual seat, in the furthest row back, he watched one by one as the rows closest to the front slowly filled in. Nobody bothers sitting in the back row. All it accomplishes is receiving glares from Dean throughout the duration of class. All the students who share classes with him know not to mess around, and any freshmen are too intimidated by his stern looks to even think about it. 

On a typical day, you’d find Dean sketching in a little black notebook prior to class, however today was different. First day, so if you happen to glance back, you'll see a solemn face with piercing green eyes scoping out the fresh meat of the class. All the guys blended in, nobody stood out because they all had the standard uni sweatshirt and hair slicked back. Then there were the girls, wearing either a slutty tank top or blue jeans and converse. 

And then he walked in. Wearing a grey sweater with messy hair, his striking blue eyes caught Dean’s attention almost immediately. He licks his lips, mimicking the way a predator stares down it’s prey before pouncing. Making his way down the stairs, he approaches the boy who’d already taken his seat and had begun pulling out various supplies. Damn, if I wouldn’t tap that. Dean mutters under his breath. He coughs slightly to snag the stranger's attention. Glancing up, he shifts slightly in his seat to accommodate for the height before nodding as a greeting. Looking back down to his paper, he continues unpacking.

Surprised at the denial of conversation, Dean coughs again. Looking up, he sighs and before Dean can even say anything the new student jeers,  
“Hey there, yes I’m gay, no I’m not looking for a boyfriend. Is that all sweetcheeks?”  
Shocked, he manages to retort, “I’m flattered, but believe me, that’s not where I had planned to take this conversation.” Taking a peek at the front of his laptop case, he sees the name “Castiel” spelled out in careful handwriting.  
“See you around, Castiel.” Smirking he walks back to his seat. Taking pride in causing the sassy boy to blush, he barely pays attention in class, trying to figure out what new ways to bother the little smart alec. After meticulously folding a paper airplane, Dean takes a ballpoint pen and scribbles a quick note So why the name sweetcheeks? Taking this whole thing a little quick, giving me a nickname already don’t you think, honeybuns ;). With careful aim, he managed to get the tip to hit Castiel on the back of his head, making him spin around sharply. But Dean had already masked his actions, seemingly engrossed in note taking from whatever the professor was going on about.  
He snatches the note off the ground before noticing the writing and hastily unfolding it. To Deans amusement, he sees the tips of his ears turning red, meaning he made him embarrassed.  
Eventually class ended, and Dean grabs his things, trailing close behind the snarky freshman. Curiously enough, he trails him across the campus into the sports and rec hall. Falling back just enough so it doesnt seem suspicious, he enters the locker room seemingly to get ready for his next class. If this Castiel guy weren’t so oblivious to his little “shadow” and called him out on it, he’d read though the bsed excuse he had rehearsed in his head, need be. Dean was a senior so there wasn’t any reason for him to be taking another class because by now most upperclassmen already had all the required credits. 

It doesn’t matter anyways. He’s already managed to slip into the locker room. Ducking through lockers, he finds the perfect angle to get a glimpse at the situation. Castiel opens his gym locker and begins to change with haste. Stripping down to his boxers, Dean manages to get a small glimpse at his exposed back. Peering over the edges of his shoulders are what looks to be lines filled in with charcoal ink, and hell if that doesn’t turn him on.


End file.
